Kyle turned and faced her. "I think I do." Or did he? Had she asked him to Sedona just to thank him in person for his years of loyalty to her? That thought was like a knife cutting him.
Gale saw the pain, the devastation apparent on his features. Did he love her? Or had the flame that burned fiercely between them dimmed and died over time? She was unsure of what she meant to Kyle, if anything, beyond a strong, enduring friendship. She wanted to gather Kyle into her arms, to tell him of her love for him, but the time wasn't right. Perhaps it would never be. Getting to her feet, she laid her hand on his shoulder.
"Listen, I think you need some time to think about what I said. Good night, Kyle." She leaned down and brushed a kiss on his cheek. Would he interpret her action as merely friendly, or would he see that she was trying to show him that she wanted much more from him?
Gale saw the surprise flare in his eyes as she kissed him. Why was she being so hesitant when it was the last thing she wanted to be? Why didn't she have the courage to simply blurt out how she really felt?
Deep down inside, Gale knew she was afraid of Kyle's answer. Sometimes the fear of rejection made her less than courageous. Perhaps giving him little hints would help him come to realize what she was really trying to say to him. Perhaps.
Kyle couldn't speak, only feel and feel some more. Gale's hand on his shoulder was focusing his disjointed emotions. Finding his voice, he whispered, "I'll see you in the morning." He wanted to grab her hand, drag her into his arms and kiss her hard and long. The question and hesitation in her darkened eyes made him hesitate. Gale had kissed him. Okay, so it was a chaste kiss. But still, she'd kissed him! Hope flared strongly in his chest. He managed a slight smile, wanting to reach out and at least hold her hand, but he was too afraid. "Good night."
Gale barely lifted her hand. "Good night… "
Kyle watched her leave, the den suddenly feeling empty without her warm presence. The house was dark and quiet. He walked through the living room to the large plate-glass window and looked out over the backyard toward the Taylors' house a mere three hundred yards away. The sky was clear and the stars were large and close, twinkling and dancing.
Thrusting his hands into the pockets of his jeans, he stared at the old sycamore tree standing proud and silent in the darkness. Gale's face lingered before him. Yes, he loved her. The past year had brought that fact squarely to him. He had to make a decision. He realized he'd been waiting, giving Gale time to recover from the news of Mike's death. Now it was clear that she was over her bereavement.
Fresh fear gripped him. Did she love him? Where did friendship like theirs end and a new, different kind of love begin?
Taking a deep breath, he moved away from the window and headed down the hall to his bedroom. The Taylors would be coming over at 10:00 a.m. to open Christmas gifts. And Gale would be with them. Suddenly, the need to see her, talk with her, was overwhelming. It didn't matter how fearful he was of her reaction to his admitting his love for her. He couldn't stand the excruciating wait, not knowing what her answer would be. There was so much to say. The morning couldn't come soon enough-
"Good morning," Gale said, smiling up into Kyle's freshly shaved face. He'd cut himself, and she wanted to reach up and gently press a kiss to his jaw.
Hungrily, Kyle stared into her lovely forest-colored eyes dancing with incredible life. "Merry Christmas," he whispered. She wore a pale peach blouse and cream-colored slacks. Her hair was a shining cloak across her shoulders. Kyle inhaled the flowery scent of her perfume. A tension, a delicious throbbing sensation, ensnared him.
He saw Gale's eyes widen and interpreted that as her also being aware of the sensual pulsation that had now sprung between them-just as it had the first time they'd met so many years ago. Hope swept through him, making him giddy, nervous.
Gale moved to one side as the two families trooped toward the den where the tree stood laden with gifts. She looked up, drowning in his gaze. Did she dare hope? Did she dare read what lingered in his eyes as love for her?
For the next half hour, gifts were opened amid laughter and joking. Kyle brought a gift from beneath the tree and sat down, handing it to Gale. Would she like it? Or would it make her unhappy. He couldn't be sure.
Gale shook the red-wrapped box. "It rattles!" she cried out to everyone, and then laughed with them.
Kyle managed a nervous smile and watched as she tore into the wrapping like a child. His heart beat harder as she opened the box.
Digging through a mass of crinkly red-and-green tissue paper, Gale found a small, oblong bulb. After finding two dozen more, she tilted her head, giving Kyle a questioning look. "Daffodil bulbs." Tears filled her eyes. She held the bulbs reverently. Memory of their cardboard Christmas tree at Travis slammed through her. And so did the memory of a conversation they'd had about her daffodils and the fact they meant a new beginning for her. Sniffling, she gently placed the bulbs back in the box.
"Here," Kyle mumbled, putting his linen handkerchief in her hands. Embarrassed, he looked at his parents and the Taylors. There was understanding and sympathy in their expressions. Gale was beginning to cry in earnest and Kyle felt the need to get her alone.
"Uh, excuse us for a moment… " he said, rising, pulling Gale to her feet.
"Take her into the living room, honey," his mother said.
Gently, Kyle put his arm around Gale's shoulders and led her to the other room where they'd have a modicum of privacy. Once there, he drew her to a halt, folding her against him. A groan escaped Kyle as she put her arms around his neck, nestling her cheek against his chest.
"I'm sorry," he muttered, absently rubbing her shoulders. "I didn't mean to make you cry, Gale. Not now… God, not after everything you've gone through."
She drew away just enough to see the anguish in his azure eyes. "I'm not sad," she choked out.
"No?" His eyebrows moved upward. "I don't understand."
Managing a small laugh, Gale shook her head. "Oh, Kyle, you're so sweet and good to me. You do things so unconsciously, not even realizing what you're doing."
She was smiling through her tears and he framed her face, feeling the dampness beneath his hands. The urge to kiss those beads of moisture off her thick lashes haunted him. The need to kiss her was more painful than any physical agony he could recall. "Tell me what I did," he said thickly, allowing himself to drown in gold-flecked eyes lustrous with invitation. The thread of hope he clung to grew stronger, and he dared to believe he saw love there.
"My Christmas gift to you is also a set of daffodil bulbs, Kyle." She dropped her eyelids and her voice grew strained. "After I got over grieving for Mike, I went back and reread all your letters. It was then that I realized I care very deeply for you… that we've always shared something special." She licked her lips, tasting the salt on them, forcing herself to look up at him again. Kyle deserved her courage now, not her cowardice.
"You're honorable, Kyle. More than any man I've ever known. In the past year, I've realized that although I loved Mike, there was something you and I shared, too. There was a lot of caring in your letters to me. How many men would have written at all, much less as much as you did? Not many, Kyle."
Gently, he removed the last of her tears with his thumbs. "I didn't want to interfere, Gale." He dragged in a deep breath. "I knew you loved Mike. What I felt… how I felt about you wasn't important."
She took a huge risk, sliding her hand across his cheek. "You did the next best thing, you took care of me in his absence." Her voice grew tender. "I gave you daffodil bulbs to tell you in a silent sort of way that I want you back in my life, I want to share it with you in a new, better way. That is… if you want to-"